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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29690160">Puppy Love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/daoinhe/pseuds/daoinhe'>daoinhe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Team Fortress 2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:08:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,882</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29690160</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/daoinhe/pseuds/daoinhe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Pyro discovers a new sort of affection for Scout, while growing closer to his team as they try to help him and Scout navigate the murky waters of growing up.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Pyro/Scout (Team Fortress 2)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The last story I wrote was pretty dark, and as usual, I've ended up with this bit of fluff now!  This is laugh out loud reading, imo, and pretty darned light, but so much fun!  I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Also, I've tagged this mature, I don't intend to be blatant within it, but you never know where this story may take me.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pyro and Scout stood on a concrete lip, overlooking the battlefield and talking softly.  To a casual observer, they could have been two brothers, being close in age and dressed similarly enough to fool the eye into making that mistake.  Nothing could be further from the truth though, they’d been thrown together on this RED team, the youngest members by nearly a decade, and that alone gave them a reason to bond.  They’d both dealt with the ribbing and joking, the casual comments about inexperience together.  That had helped.  The fact that they genuinely liked each other was icing on the cake.</p><p>Pyro glanced around, a dismissive glance taking in the barns, the big wooden buildings they would fight in, the tracks that ran through the middle of the yard.  “Barnblitz.” He nearly spat the word.  “Who the hell names these places anyway?”  </p><p>Scout, standing beside him, chuckled.  “Hey, at least it’s not ColdFront, right?”  The two young men shivered in tandem, then grinned at each other.  “Weather’s not too terrible here, ya know?”  Neither of them had been fond of the cold, the snow, the isolation of the Alaska base.  </p><p>Pyro plucked at a loose string on the sleeve of his sweater, then frowned.  “True, but the dorms here…” He let the sentence trail off.  They’d been appalled when they arrived, the base’s living area was not much of a living area in their opinion.  The surrounding mountains blocked tv signals, so there was no tv, the radio stations were all country, Engie was blissful but they missed rock music.  Add to all this, they had to share rooms, and they both had developed an instant dislike for the place.  </p><p>At least they were rooming together.  They’d been told about the accommodations on the train, on the way here, and after grumbling for the last forty five minutes of the trip, had come up with a plan.  On their arrival, Scout dashed off the train, leaving Pyro to carry their duffles, looking for the best room on the base.  Unfortunately, all the rooms had looked the same, leaving the ‘old men’ laughing uproariously at Scout’s mad dash through the base.  He’d finally picked the one furthest from the shared bathrooms and showers, dropping onto one of the two twin beds and waiting for Pyro to show up with their bags.  </p><p>Solly and Demo had the room next to theirs, Spy and Medic were directly across the hallway, and Heavy was sharing a room with Engie, next to the bathrooms.  Neither of them was happy, the room next to the bathroom was the hardest to sleep in, due to the almost constant foot traffic and the sounds of flushing toilets and running showers.  Sniper, when he arrived, would sleep in his van, a source of constant amusement and curiosity to the boys.  They’d spent long hours, heads together, watching Sniper come and go.  They’d made up stories about what Sniper did in there, ranging from bawdy bordello on wheels to serial killer mobile torture station.  They’d tried to peek in the windows, but the curtains hung too low, concealing the interior from them and only adding to their inquisitiveness.  Finally, Engie had pulled them to the side and explained to them, in no uncertain terms, what would happen if Sniper caught them snooping.  That had just made it worse, although they were certainly more careful to not get caught.  </p><p>After moving in and a brief but heated argument with Heavy about changing rooms, the two had gone to explore the field.  They were the only team members who hadn’t been here before, so they wanted to familiarize themselves with the land.  Engie had snorted at this excuse, knowing that it meant they wanted out of helping with dinner, but had let them go.  And now, here they stood, in jeans and heavy sweaters, watching the evening sun set from the highest place they could find, a west facing window in the very top of a three story building whose original purpose was unknown.  </p><p>“So,” Pyro finally spoke, “What would be a better name for this place?  Hellhole?  Redneck Rampage?”  He snickered at the last.  “Engie would fit right in.”  </p><p>Scout started laughing, then shook his head.  “Nah, gotta be something really stupid, like Hamburger Hamlet or something.” He looked at the cattle grazing on the far side of the fence.  “Hope somebody moves them before we start fighting.  I don’t wanna be stuck trying to outrun a stampede.”  He watched the placid cows distrustfully.  Having grown up in the city, he only knew that they were huge and that in Engie’s westerns they caused a lot of damage.  Glancing up at the darkening sky, he turned to the ladder leading down from the roof.  “We should probably start back, it’s gonna get dark real fast.” </p><p> </p><p>Wandering back into the base, pushing and shoving at each other, they paused for a moment, watching the rest of the team.  Someone had found a big round table and dragged it into the middle of the floor, everyone but Soldier was playing cards, beers in hand.  Soldier was clanging pots in the kitchen, cursing loudly, and occasionally yelping as he burned himself or the food.</p><p>“Hey guys, you gonna do anything besides play cards?”  Scout looked over Demo’s shoulder, shaking his head when he saw the Scotsman’s hand.  </p><p>“We’re gonna drink, lad.  And fight.  What else is there?”  Demo suddenly noticed Scout reaching for his beer and shooed him off.  “Don’t think so, boyo.  You gotta have a few more birthdays before you can drink with us.”  He grinned to the others, obviously impressed with his own wit. </p><p>Scout shrugged and walked off.  He’d already signalled to Spy that the hand was a losing hand, earning him and Pyro a beer to share later.  Thank God that Spy didn’t seem to give a damn if they drank, unlike some of the rest of the team.  </p><p>He plopped down on the couch, reading Pyro’s comic over his shoulder.  Pyro, sitting on the floor, shrugged and moved his head to the side, giving Scout room to see.  They passed the rest of the evening like that, in companionable near silence.</p><p> </p><p>When the others ended their card game, Scout and Pyro gathered up the comics, taking them to the room they shared.  Pyro dropped the comics on the small table and looked at the beds.  They were already made, prepped by whoever got the bases ready for them.  They each occupied a wall, an uncurtained window between them.  There were two small dressers and a closet built into the remaining wall.  Pyro frowned suddenly.  “Hey, Scout.”  He started poking around the small room, looking under furniture and in the closet.  “There’s no heating vent in here.”  He was muttering under his breath now, exploring the room more closely.  “It’s fall.  That means it’s gonna get cold at night.”  He hated the cold, he’d come from the southern US and cold weather was anathema to him.  </p><p>Scout grunted, knowing he wasn’t fond of the cold, but not as concerned.  “Can’t be any worse than Boston. You got blankets, right?  Just sleep in your clothes or something.”  He started to undress, dropping his dirty clothes where he stood.  “You’ll be fine, Py.”  </p><p>Pyro looked at him doubtfully, then shrugged.  “You gonna sleep in your underwear? Better not let Spy find out, he’ll try to make me change rooms with him.”  He laughed and dodged the pillow Scout threw at him, then tossed it back.  Slowly undressing down to his own underwear and t-shirt, he crawled under the blankets, waiting for them to warm up, leaving Scout to turn off the light.  He curled into as tight a ball as he could, and eventually, exhausted by travel and exploring the base, he fell into a light sleep.  </p><p>Scout woke up in the middle of the night, Pyro was tossing and turning, his bunk creaking with each movement.  After laying awake in the dark for a moment, listening, he finally sat up and looked at Pyro’s restless form.  “Hey.” He kept his voice a whisper.  “What the hell, man?” </p><p>“I can’t sleep.”  Pyro’s voice came from the other side of the room, sounding miserable.  </p><p>“No shit.”  Scout sighed, knowing that he couldn’t sleep with Pyro making all that noise.  “What’s wrong?  You have a bad dream?”  He lay back down, resting his head on his pillow.  It was freezing outside of the blankets.</p><p>“No.”  The voice was timid.  “It’s too cold.  Every time I think I’m gonna go to sleep, I shiver and then I’m awake again.”  Pyro sighed.  “Sorry, Scout.  I’ll try to lay still.”  </p><p>Scout shook his head.  “It’s all good, man.  Why don’t you just crawl in with me?  I’ll warm you up.”  He winced suddenly, aware of how that sounded.  “Not like that or anything, just…” He paused.  “Hell, you know what I mean.” </p><p>The relief in Pyro’s voice was palpable.  “You’re sure?”  He rustled about for a moment, gathering blankets.  “I’m too damned cold to care, right now.”  Scout’s grunt of affirmation was all he needed.  Dashing across the room in the dark, he tossed his blankets on top of Scout, then lifted the pile and burrowed under it.  Scout recoiled when Pyro’s flesh touched his.  His friend was like ice.  “Jeez, man, what the hell?”  He yipped in surprise when icy feet were shoved against his legs.  “Hey, knock it off!”  </p><p>“Shhh, don’t, Scout.”  Pyro made a grab for his mouth, clapping a hand across his nose and one eye in the dark.  “Dude, if the guys come in here, we’re never gonna live this down.”  Scout tried to get free of Pyro’s grasping hands, finally pushing one away, able to breathe through his  nose again.  “Ok, ok.” He whispered.  “Would you just lay still and keep your damned feet off me?”  </p><p>Pyro nodded, barely visible in the thin starlight, then somehow folded himself even closer to Scout, pressing them together in the middle of the twin bed.  Arms went around Scout’s neck and he sighed, not sure what to do with his own gangly limbs.  Pyro had always been the affectionate one, hugging everyone freely and not worried about how it made him look.  At last, out of options, Scout wrapped his own arms around Pyro, holding him close.  Their combined body heat under the nest of blankets created a warm cocoon and Scout felt his eyes drifting closed, drowsiness overwhelming him.  In his arms, Pyro sighed contentedly, then began to snore softly.  Scout let sleep take him. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>****</p><p> </p><p>Spy tried the door knob of Scout and Pyro’s room, surprised when it twisted open under his hand.  He’d been sent to wake them up for breakfast, and had resigned himself to standing in the hallway, pounding until one of the two woke up.  This was so much better, he thought, knowing how fast they would come awake when he stole their blankets.  He peeked inside and froze.  </p><p>One bed was empty, the other was full of boy, the two so entwined that it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.  A slow smile spreading across his face, he darted into his own room and pulled his instant camera out of his duffle.  Walking lightly into their room, he framed them in the viewfinder, then pressed the button, the first photo coming out of the little slot of the camera and dropping to the floor.  The flash and sound of the shutter clicking had Scout’s eyes fluttering open.  Spy quickly began pressing the little button over and over again, frantically trying to catch the photos as they shot out of the camera.</p><p>Scout sat up and, realizing what was happening, tried to jump out of bed, ending up crashing to the floor on his face.  He frantically began unwrapping blankets from his long, bare legs, Pyro sitting up sleepily, trying to understand what was going on.  Before Pyro could make sense of things, Scout was up and running, chasing a maniacally laughing Spy down the hallway, yelling curses.  </p><p>Pyro groaned, one arm going over his eyes, wanting only to retreat back into the warmth of the blankets.  He searched for them blindly, then sat up when he realized they were all piled on the floor.  Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he looked down, then reached for the small square of colored paper on the floor.  He stared at the picture, his expression indecipherable. It was a close up, Scout’s mouth half open in sleep, his buck teeth gleaming whitely, as he lay on his back, eyes closed.  Pyro’s own dark head was resting on Scout’s shoulder, his arm curled around the other boy’s neck.  Scout’s hand was draped across his own shoulders, pale fingers curled in sleep.  Pyro stood slowly, staring down at the photo for another long moment.  Finally, he lifted his mattress and shoved the photo underneath, then began to get dressed.  </p><p> </p><p>When he finally made it to the kitchen, it was the usual morning chaos.  Demo, already swaying a bit, was holding another photo above his head, Scout trying to wrestle his arm down and grab it.  Spy sat in a corner, nursing a bloody nose and still holding aching ribs as he tried to stop laughing.  The rest of the team was either helping cook or admiring different squares of paper, commenting lewdly on Spy’s photography skills.  Pyro shook his head and sat at the table, waiting calmly for the food to be ready.  </p><p>Medic, sitting in the chair beside him, glanced over his photo and grinned.  “Did you have a good night, Kind?”  He tried to hide his laughter, but it was impossible.  </p><p>Pyro shrugged.  “It was kind of cold in the beginning, so I crawled in with Scout while he was sleeping.”  He tried to deflect the attention, knowing that he could handle the teasing much better than Scout who was still trying to climb Demo and failing miserably.  </p><p>Medic nodded.  “It warmed up quickly after that?”  He didn’t bother  to keep the smirk off his face.  </p><p>Pyro just smiled tightly at him, shaking his head.  “You never shared body heat, Doc? I thought that you of all people would understand, given your old creaking bones.”  He pushed away from the table, laughing at the look on Medic’s face.  Engie stepped out of the kitchen then, bellowing for quiet.  He scowled at Demo.  “Leave that poor boy alone.” He waved vaguely at Scout, still clawing at Demo’s hand.  “Ey, he’s trying to climb me, not the other way round.”  Demo protested but Engie, in typical Engie fashion, waved off the protests and got everyone settled around the table with full plates.  He deftly steered the conversation to other topics, shushing anyone who mentioned pictures or cold weather quickly. </p><p>Pyro was glad when the meal was finished and he could escape to the quiet of the empty base.  He loved his team, they were more of a family than he’d ever known before, but sometimes the noise was too much, it seemed to crawl inside his head and echo in the empty spaces, clamouring like out of tune church bells.  </p><p>His mind turned to the picture, tucked securely under his mattress.  He’d never thought of Scout as being handsome, or good looking, or anything other than just Scout before, but something about that picture stirred a longing deep in his chest.  He shook his head, trying to erase the thought, but it was firmly lodged now.  He’d always known he was different, even before he knew what the word arsonist meant.  When he’d figured that part out, he’d begun to research, wanting to know as much about his condition as possible.  </p><p>Most arsonists were male, started setting fires at an early age and were primarily motivated by anger.  He fit all those categories.  According to the people who study these things, most arsonists had a low IQ and lack of education.  He’d immediately shrugged off those claims, he’d been tested at 135, not really genius level, but far from dumb.  As for education, he may have had to educate himself, but he had done well.  </p><p>He definitely fit the bill when it came to isolated and anti social.  He didn’t like crowds, didn’t like most people, to be honest.  Although he’d come to think of the people on his team as family, he viewed outsiders with distrust and dislike.  When he was younger, he’d wanted to grow up to have a relationship, get married,have kids.  He’d given up on that dream long ago.  He still remembered the girl he’d fallen for, he was perhaps 15 at the time, and he’d been attracted to her flame orange hair from the moment he’d first seen her sitting in a desk in front of him at school.  She had told him he was a creep, that she wasn’t interested, and that no one ever would be.  </p><p>Pyro sighed to himself.  He hadn’t hurt the girl, but he had gone on a burning spree that had cost 14 people’s lives and done hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of damage in the city he lived in.  In remorse, he’d tried to kill himself.  He had spent time in an asylum, finally being released at the age of 18 and immediately snatched up by TF Industries.  Since then, other than the working girls they met at bars, he’d given the female sex a wide berth.  He didn’t want to be rejected again.  </p><p>With a sigh, he pushed himself to standing and went to the track that looped around the base.  He started to run, determined to keep at it until he either forgot about this emptiness or vomited, not really caring which came first.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which things get a bit out of hand and Pyro gets relationship advice from Heavy.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That evening passed slowly, Scout and Pyro didn’t curl up together with their comics, preferring to sit on opposite ends of the couch and watch the mind numbingly boring sitcoms that were the only thing the TV here could pick up.  Scout kept hopping up and adjusting the rabbit ears, trying for a better signal.  Pyro tried not to look at the way his t-shirt covered his shoulders, stretching and hugging them when he moved.  He finally grew too antsy to remain in the rec room and, getting off the couch, muttered something about a shower and bed to the room at large.  </p><p>The shower room was empty when he got there so he stripped down quickly, leaving his clothes on the bench.  He stepped into a stall and turned the water as hot as it would go, trying to ignore the gooseflesh that was covering his skin.  When the hot water began to spew from the showerhead, he nearly groaned in relief, large clouds of steam billowed out and the heat washed over his skin like a warm blanket.  Leaning his arm against the wall, he let the scorching water roll over his head and down his back.  </p><p>He tried to concentrate on the water, the stinging heat beating down on him, but his mind kept drifting back to the photo hidden under his mattress.  Pyro muttered,  a muffled “Shit.” as he felt himself hardening.  He shook his head and reached down, taking himself in hand and stroking, hard.  His breathing quickened, he grunted suddenly, his body spasming as he released onto the dirty tile floor.  Leaning his head against the wall, he caught his breath, hoping that now, with that out of his system, he would be able to forget about the photo, about the smell of Scout, sweet and fresh next to him. Slowly, he reached for the soap with a trembling hand, intent only on cleaning himself and getting into his own bed and falling asleep before Scout could come into the room.  </p><p>As he spread soap over his body, he frowned in puzzlement.  Pyro couldn’t understand where these feelings were coming from, he’d always liked Scout, the guy was nothing like him, loudmouthed and confident where he was shy, timid and retiring until familiar with a situation.  He shook his head, water spraying around him and reached for a towel, drying himself off, running his comb through his short hair, gathering his things and returning to their room.  </p><p>Pyro sorted the mess of blankets they hadn’t touched since that morning, then made both beds.  Climbing into his, he curled into a small ball, waiting for his body to heat the confined space.  At last, a bit of warmth gathered, he closed his eyes.  </p><p>He’d been asleep for less than twenty minutes when the door banged open and Scout came running inside.  He listened to Scout’s feet pause by his bed, but he kept his eyes closed, pretending to still be asleep.  At last, Scout’s feet shuffled off and he heard the creak of springs as the boy sat on the other bed.  There was the rustle of blankets and then Scout, tossing and turning. </p><p>“Hey, Pyro.”  Scout’s voice was low.  “Look, I know that this morning was kind of rough, and I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry about that.  I forgot to lock our door last night.  I guess with the new base and all, I was just too excited.”  The other boy sighed.  “Anyway, I just wanted you to know that, okay?”</p><p>There was silence in the room for a moment.  At last, giving up on pretending to be asleep, Pyro spoke.  “Nothing to be sorry about, Scout.” He couldn’t help but smile at the unintended rhyme.  “I’m not mad or anything, but I know how much you hate it when the guys tease you.”  He knotted his fists in his blankets, sudden anger at Spy washing through him.  “I should have double checked the door.”  </p><p>Scout chuckled.  “Yeah, I was pretty pissed off.”  His voice dropped lower in the darkness of their room.  “But, I gotta admit, it was sort of nice.”  </p><p>Pyro frowned.  “Huh? Spy teasing you was nice? I thought I was supposed to be the crazy one.” He yelped as a pillow flew out of the dark and smacked into his face.  “Hey!”  Laughing, he threw the pillow back in Scout’s direction.</p><p>“Not Spy, you moron.  Sleeping with someone again was nice.”  Scout sighed, shifting in his bed.  “You know I have a lot of brothers, right?  We didn’t have enough space to have our own rooms, so we shared.  And I always had to share a bed with somebody, depending on who was getting along with who at the time.  Sleeping with you reminded me of that.”  He shifted again.  “I don’t think I’ve slept that good since I left home.”  He was silent for a moment.  “So, ummm, I was sort of wondering, do you wanna sleep with me again?”  He paused for a moment.  “I mean, you don’t have too, ya know, but if you want, I don’t mind.” </p><p>“What about Spy?”  Pyro’s voice hitched a bit, he could feel his heartbeat starting to speed up.  Was this actually happening or was it a really weird dream?  “I mean, if he finds out, he’ll never let us live this down.”  </p><p>“Fuck Spy.” Scout’s voice was harsh in the darkness.  “Besides, he already told the whole base, right?  No point hiding it now.”  Scout’s sigh was loud.  “I mean, I’m not worried about what the croissant says anyway, are you?”  </p><p>Pyro shook his head, uncertain now but unwilling to show it.  “No.”  His voice trailed off into the darkness as he weighed his options.  He could stay in his own bed, where it was safe, or he could take Scout up on his offer, knowing that it was meant as an act of friendship, not what he wanted it to be.  He stood up suddenly, unwilling to pass up this chance, even if Scout never realized how he felt.  He was willing to be the stand in for the other boys brothers, hoping that he could push his own longing aside.  Trailing his blankets, he crossed the small room and stood for a moment, staring down at Scout.  Scout lifted the blankets, scooting back to make room for him and Pyro, damning himself for his weakness, climbed in beside him.  </p><p>They lay quiet for a moment, then Scout suddenly sneezed and started to giggle.  </p><p>“What?  What’s so funny?”  Pyro’s voice was louder than he’d intended, but he had to know.  </p><p>“You smell like smoke.”  He started laughing harder.  “Didn’t you just take a shower?  What the hell, man, you have like smoke scented body wash or something?”   Scout was laughing even harder now, and Pyro started to grin.  </p><p>“Yeah, I have to special order it.  It’s called Brushfire and Kerosene.”  He joked.  “You wanna borrow it sometime?”  He imitated Heavy’s accent. `` You'll smell like man, not like baby powder.”  Giggling harder, he watched Scout’s eyes squeeze shut with laughter.  “In Russia, real man smell like smoke.”  The two were lost in gales of laughter when a fist banged on the wall.  “Would you two maggots shut up?”  Soldier’s volume drowned them out.  “Some of us are trying to sleep here, not play tickle the pickle.”  </p><p>Scout and Pyro nearly choked, trying to stifle the noise.  Wrapping his arms around Pyro, Scout pulled him in closer.  “Now it’s really like being home. Thanks, Py.”  His mint scented breath blew across Pyro’s cheek.  “I think I can sleep now, how about you?”  </p><p>Pyro nodded, knowing there was no way he would be able to sleep with Scout this close.  “Yeah, same here.”  He tried to even out his breathing, using every technique he’d learned in the asylum, but he couldn’t stifle his awareness of the other’s closeness, the heat of his body or the long legs wrapped around his.  He closed his eyes, praying for dawn to come soon.  </p><p>*** </p><p>Scout woke to darkness, and a heavy pressure on his chest.  He grunted and looked down, remembering where he was, able to make out the dim outline of Pyro’s head, resting on his chest in the dim light.  He sucked in a breath when he felt the wetness over his collarbone, sticky and pooling in the hollow there and realized that Pyro drooled in his sleep.  Scout sighed, wondering if he drooled also.  </p><p>Pyro sucked in a breath then, letting it out in a soft snore and Scout bit back a giggle, not wanting to wake him.  He shifted slightly, seeking a more comfortable position, managing to turn on his side without waking up the other.  He had his back to Pyro now, and was resting more comfortably.  When the heavily muscled arm draped over his waist, he simply shrugged and snuggled back from the edge of the bed, his body pressing against the warmth behind him.  Relaxing more now, Scout didn’t try to fight the overwhelming weariness that crept back over him, pulling him under once more.  </p><p>***</p><p>Scout woke to morning sunlight shining in his eyes and shifted slightly.  Pyro was pressed up against his back, and Scout stiffened slightly as he felt something hard and heavy nudge the back of his thigh, snagging on the thin cotton of his boxers.  He reddened in embarrassment as two and two added up, his sleep addled brain informing him that Pyro had not brought a stick to bed.  He shifted away, Pyro following him in his sleep and then, suddenly, waking up and realizing that things were awkward.  </p><p>“Oh God…”  Pyro’s voice was loud as he turned violently onto his back.  “Scout, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean for that to…”  </p><p>“Relax, man.”  Scout tried to keep the amusement out of his voice.  “Morning wood’s a thing, you know, happens to all of us.”  He wasn’t prepared for Pyro bolting over him, the blankets tangling around his legs and throwing him to the floor.  Scout half sat up and looked over the edge of the bed at his friend, laying on the floor, tangled in blankets, his pale complexion resembling a lit firecracker more than anything human at the moment.  Scout couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips.  “I don’t mind, Py.  It’s a natural reaction.”</p><p>Scout watched, astonished, as Pyro rolled over and, stumbling to his feet, ran out the door.  He shook his head, hearing the shout of astonishment from the hall as Heavy was nearly barrelled over by the half naked, fleeing boy.  Laying back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, Scout tried to figure out what had just happened.  Finally, he shook his head in amazement, then got up and started dressing for the day.  He sat down on the bed to wait after he was dressed, knowing that Pyro would have to come back eventually to get his clothes.</p><p>***</p><p>Pyro ran into the bathroom, slamming a stall door behind him and sitting down quickly. He dropped his face into his hands, feeling the burning rush of embarrassment slowly start to fade in the cold air.  He grunted when he heard Heavy open the door, the larger man stepping into the room and turning the water on in the sink.  He splashed for a moment, then shut off the water.  There was silence. </p><p>Pyro shifted uneasily on the hard seat of the toilet, unsure what to do next.  Just as he was preparing to open the door and peek out, Heavy spoke.  His voice was a low rumble, and quiet in the chill air.  “I will not ask if little Pyro is okay.” He chuffed softly, like a big dog.  “Okay man does not run half naked down hallway, like pinball in machine”  There was the soft sound of footsteps scuffing on the floor.  “Heavy will tell you this though, you are not first man to want things from other man.  You will not be last man, either.”  </p><p>Pyro sucked in a breath, wondering suddenly about the rumors he’d heard hinted at.  He knew that Medic used to share a room with Heavy, now he shared a room with Engie.  He knew that Soldier and Demo always roomed together.  He’d heard that Demo and Soldier were more than friends, but he’d never believed it.  Now, he started to wonder.  Slowly, he leaned his head against the side of the stall.  “It’s not like that.”  He finally started, quiet.  There was silence on the other side of the door.  </p><p>“I mean, we started sleeping in the same bed because it’s so cold here.  I can’t stand it.” He chuckled weakly.  “Never did like the cold.  I thought it would be okay, I mean, Scout’s my best friend.  But then this morning, when I woke up…” He trailed off, unsure suddenly how much to tell the big man.  He’d always liked Heavy, trusted him with his slow voice and small kindnesses, but this was so deeply personal.  “I, ummm, well…” He cleared his throat.  </p><p>“You were hard.”  Heavy made it a statement, not a question, causing a little noise of agreement from Pyro.  “What did other little man say? He was mad?”</p><p>Pyro shook his head violently, then realized that Heavy could not see him through the wall.  “He said it was ok.  Natural.  He didn’t seem mad.”  Pyro sighed.  “But I panicked and tried to run and I tripped and fell all over the floor and you and now I’m hiding in here.”  He ended the tale of his morning woes with a small sigh.  “I don’t even know how to go back in there and face him.”  </p><p>“Pyro cannot run naked across base.  Engie will be angry.”  Heavy chuckled at the thought.  “Will not allow naked man to eat breakfast.  Ask Soldier.”  He shuffled a moment, then the thin wood of the stall groaned faintly as he leaned against it.  “Will give advice.  Go back to room, head high, chest out.  Be man.  Things happen, Scout is not mad, but you are not baby to hide in bathroom from problem.”  The wall creaked again as Heavy straightened.  “Go now.  It will be okay.  If not okay, come hide with Heavy later.  We will drink.” He chuckled again and started to walk away from the stall.  “Vodka will keep little Pyro warm.”  </p><p>Pyro leaned his head against the stall door and waited, listening to heavy footsteps exit the bathroom, then the door swinging closed.  He slapped a hand over his face, pulling it slowly downward.  He’d just gotten relationship advice from an old Russian guy, and was contemplating taking that advice.  He groaned out loud.  What a trainwreck. </p><p>Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, his attention now focusing on his feet, bare and planted on the cement floor of the too cold bathroom.  They felt numb, starting to ache a bit from the cold.  He sighed.  He had wool socks in his room, somewhere.  All he had to do was grow a set and get some clothes, then he could be warm again.  Standing up, he took Heavy’s advice and straightened his back, puffed his chest out, and left the stall.  </p><p>He was barely outside the bathroom door when Spy stepped into the hallway, closing his room door firmly behind him.  He could tell by the look on Spy’s face that a snide comment was coming, and he was not wrong.</p><p>“You look very proud, for someone doing the walk of shame.”  Spy let his brown eyes trail over him, from feet to top of mussed hair, then back down, slowly, a lecherous grin on his face.  </p><p>Pyro sighed.  “Get bent, Spy.”  He shook his head.  “It’s not a walk of shame.  I just had to go to the bathroom.”  He kept walking, shoulder checking Spy lightly as he passed.  </p><p>“Nice boxers, fille.” As Spy entered the bathroom, he managed to get the last word in, causing Pyro to curse under his breath. </p><p>“Keep it up, Spy, I’ll fille you.” He muttered, then cursed louder at the unintended double entendre.  With a sigh, he opened the door.  </p><p> </p><p>Scout was sitting on the bed, still waiting, when he heard Pyro and Spy’s verbal sparring match in the hallway.  He chuckled quietly, Pyro never been great with witty replies, as he’d just proven once again. He leaned his back against the wall, watching as the door slowly opened.  “Heya, Py.”  He smiled.  “Ummm, about earlier…” He grimaced, he’d had a speech all ready for this moment, “I thought you might want to talk about it?” He shrugged.  “I mean, if you don’t, that’s okay too, but, really, I’m not mad.”  He chuckled nervously.  “I mean, it happens.  Hell, if I’d been the big spoon, it’s hard to tell what you would have gotten poked with.”  He blushed, appalled at how off track this carefully planned, adult conversation had gotten.  “Ummm, I mean, not that I would have tried anything, but… Oh hell…”  He sighed.  “Wanna go eat?” </p><p>Pyro let the door shut behind him, standing there and looking at Scout who was talking and talking and, was he propositioning him?  And talking and finally he was just quiet.  Pyro sighed and walked over to the closet, grabbing jeans and a sweater, pulling them on quickly.  “Have you seen my wool socks?”  He turned around, eyes on Scout, a Scout who was sitting on the bed, back leaned against the wall, trying to look nonchalant and worldly.  He sighed.  “I talked to Heavy.  In the bathroom.”  He cleared his throat, looking at the floor suddenly, feeling the blush cover his cheeks.  “Heavy tried to give me advice about our,” he made air quotes with his fingers, “Love Life.”  He grinned. “Heavy said that if you were mad, I could go drink with him.”  </p><p>Scout’s eyes crinkled in amusement.  “You want me to scream or something?  Maybe throw a few things?”  He started to laugh.  “I could chase you through the base with a bat or something?”  His eyes twinkled merrily.  “But you gotta get Heavy to let me drink, too, k?  I mean, that’s a lot of work for this early.  Man, we ain’t even had breakfast yet, ya know?”  He reached under his legs and pulled out Pyro’s wool socks.  “I sat on ‘em, warmed them for ya.  I figured your feet would be cold after all that…” He waved at the floor, indicating Pyro’s earlier scramble for the door.  “Mess.”  </p><p>Pyro could feel the corners of his mouth tugging up in a smile as he reached for his socks.  “You didn’t fart on them, did you?”  He brought them to his nose and sniffed, earning an “Ewwwww” from Scout.  Grinning, he reached out with one hand.  “Friends?”  </p><p>Scout clasped his hand, pulling him down into a hug.  “Brothers.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Pyro and Engie have a heart to heart about love, crushes, and alternate dimensions.  Also, why it's a bad idea to go shot for shot with a Russian.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I do hope you guys are enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it!  This was definitely a fun chapter although I'm sure that people thought I was nuts as I sat giggling at my computer while determinedly pecking away!  Alternate dimensions, smh...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rest of the day passed pretty quickly.  There was the shouting, cursing, screaming, brandishing a baseball bat chase through the base that led to the breakfast table and a long lecture from Engie.  Pyro looked up halfway through it all to see Heavy watching him with assessing eyes.  Heavy winked slowly, then mouthed “Later”  and the entire lecture was suddenly worth it, he decided, as he nudged Scout under the table.  </p><p>After, they were drafted into helping Demo and Engie.  Engie had decided that was getting them as far apart from each other as possible, not to mention keeping them both occupied for the day.   There was plenty of equipment that needed repaired, or remade in Demo’s case, and “Idle hands do the devil’s work,” per Engie. Besides, they didn’t have anything else to do. They’d won the last fight, so they had been given a week of prep time before BLU got there.  The only stipulation was they were not allowed to enter BLU base.  After the infamous poison ivy incident, perpetrated by a certain snarky Frenchman, BLU base was under lock and key until the team actually arrived.  </p><p>Neither Scout nor Pyro had been part of the team when that had played out, but they’d heard the stories.  Apparently Sniper had found a huge patch of poison ivy just outside the base in Colorado, and Spy had taken it upon himself to harvest a large quantity of the vile weed, which he’d then taken into BLU base and coated every surface in their shared bathroom with.  The end result had been a team that was too busy scratching to fight, a week long cease fire, and massive doses of corticosteroids for the BLU team as they recovered from horrid rashes on their sensitive bits.  Spy still considered it a crowning glory in his long list of pranks played on their enemy.</p><p>Pyro wasn’t sure who had it easier, Demo at least would set down his bottle and forget it, allowing Scout to sneak drinks occasionally, but Engie was just laid back and fun, teasing Pyro in an easy manner, his soft southern drawl like an earworm laden with Ativan.  Pyro actually found himself falling asleep at lunchtime, as they sat outside Engie’s shop, warm sun shining down on them and Engie singing softly about some guy and his horse.</p><p>They’d gotten back to work after lunch and Pyro was surprised when Engie glanced over at him, a sort of half smile playing around the corners of his mouth.  “Do you wanna tell me what you two are up to?”  </p><p>Pyro nearly choked at the bluntness of the question, feeling his guilt crawl up his face in the form of a flush that darkened his skin and heated his cheeks.  “What?”  He managed to get the question out, then quickly followed up with a statement.  “What makes you think we’re up to something?”  He let his eyes shift over to Engie’s then away quickly.</p><p>Engie chuckled.  “Look, I know I may be old as dirt in your eyes,”  He quickly waved away Pyro’s protests, “But I recall what it was like to be a boy verging on manhood.”  His own cheeks flushed a bit.  “I know what it was like to have a crush on somebody, and maybe that somebody didn’t return the sentiment or even know about it, but I can tell, boy, that you and Scout are hiding something.”  He sighed.  “I thought I’d just come right out and ask you about it instead of idly speculating.  I mean, it’s not like we haven’t all noticed.”  He cleared his throat.  “Well, except for Sniper.  That long legged galoot don’t notice much of anything if it don’t have a scope. Or fur.”  He frowned.  “Or scales maybe.  But anyway, I just thought I’d let you know that if you need to talk, I’m here for ya.”  </p><p>Pyro felt instant relief that their plan to get Heavy to drink with them hadn’t been found out.  Then he replayed Engie’s words in his head and suddenly a lightbulb went off.  “Wait a minute…”  He trailed off, letting the thought form fully.  “You and Sniper?” He giggled.  “You have a thing for Sniper?”  He tried to hide his laughter behind a sudden coughing fit, the image of the long legged Aussie and the short, stocky Engineer stuck in his brain now. He closed his eyes, the mental image of Engie dragging a step stool out every time he wanted a kiss imprinted on his brain.  When he at last got himself under control again, he shook his head.  Engie was watching him, a look of irritation on his face.  </p><p>“This all makes sense now.  That’s why you didn’t want us peeking in his windows.  That’s why you always insist on having Vegemite in the pantry, even though it tastes like canned shit.”  He grinned.  “You have a crush on Sniper!”  </p><p>Engie shook his head.  “You might want to stop while you’re ahead, boy.” He let his hand drift down to the wrench he’d laid on his workbench.  Pyro stopped laughing, he’d seen what Engie could do with that wrench.  “It ain’t funny, having a crush on someone and them not even knowing you’re alive.”  He frowned.  “But we’re talking about you, Pyro.  You and Scout.  What’s the deal?”  </p><p>Pyro shook his head again, then sighed.  “First of all, there’s nothing going on.”  The picture hidden under his mattress flashed into his mind suddenly.  “We’re just friends.  Seriously, Engie, we were sleeping together because it’s so cold in the base, and Spy took those damned pictures and showed them to everybody and now you all think we’re doing stuff together.  We aren’t, I swear!”  He frowned as a voice in the back of his head whispered about the stuff he’d like to do to Scout.  “I mean, I like Scout, but it’s not like that.”  The little voice started calling him a liar.  “We’re friends.  That’s it.”  </p><p>Engie shook his head.  “Friends.  That’s one way to look at it, but you know, I’m not sure I believe all that.” His grin was easy.  “You ever read Shakespeare?  You might recognize this line.  ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’  Sound familiar, Pyro?” </p><p>Pyro muttered something under his breath, then cursed loudly when the teleporter he was working with suddenly shot a donut across the room.  Engie frowned, the wrench whacking down inches from his fingers.  “Damn Solly.  I don’t know what he did to them, but they keep making bread.”  He sighed.  “I took them apart, all of them, and still we get carbs.  I just don’t get it.”  He glared at the donut.  “I mean, it’s not dangerous or anything, but this shit gets annoying. I have to clean crumbs out at the end of each match.”  He banged on the tele once again.  “Just plain annoying. What do you think?”  </p><p>Pyro, glad of the sudden change of conversation, frowned at the tele. He thought for a moment, then an idea came to him.  “Hey, Engie.  Do you think that there’s a pocket dimension or something that Solly managed to fill up with bread and now it just spits out the occasional piece.  Like maybe it’s reached carrying capacity and this is the spill over?”  He poked the tele with an experimental finger.  “Maybe if it didn’t spit the bread out, the dimension would explode or something?”  </p><p>Engie was silent for a moment, contemplating.  Finally he sighed.  “What in the hell have you and Scout been watching on tv?  That is the stupidest thi... “ His voice trailed off and he grabbed a pencil and paper, feverishly setting down a series of equations that looked to be more letters than numbers to Pyro.  </p><p>Pyro watched without saying anything for a few moments, then he waved a hand in front of Engie’s face.  Engie batted it aside with a muttered curse, continuing to scribble.  “Go find something to do, Py.  I gotta think.”  </p><p>Pyro watched him for another moment, then started edging quietly toward the workshop’s door.  He turned the knob and had nearly made his escape when Engie looked up at him suddenly.  “Start dinner.  I might be a while.”  He turned back to his papers and Pyro headed for the kitchen.  Looked like it was gonna be either burgers or spaghetti, he thought to himself, knowing his limited kitchen skills wouldn’t allow for much else that was palatable.  </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>Dinner ended up being spaghetti, which in Pyro’s opinion, was decent.  The rest of the team grumbled, but he hadn’t actually burned anything, including the kitchen, so it was a win.  When Engie didn’t appear, he plated up a ham and cheese sandwich and some chips, carried them out to the shop and put them on the workbench beside Engie. The man barely noticed, simply reached for a chip with the hand not busy writing, and shoved it into his mouth.  Pyro glanced around at the workshop, the floor now covered in balled up sheets of paper, and headed for the door again.  He was nearly there when he heard the soft “Thanks, Py.” Smiling to himself, he walked back to base, keeping his eyes open for Heavy.  </p><p>He finally gave up, unable to understand how such a large man could make himself so scarce. Going back to his room, he opened the door to find Heavy sitting on his bed. Scout was still missing, probably taking a shower before bed. The big Russian had a bottle sitting on the floor by his feet, three shot glasses lined up at his side.  Pyro raised an eyebrow.  “Three glasses?”  He grabbed his trunk from the foot of the bed and sat it between them, a make shift table.  Heavy nodded approval and lined the glasses up on the flat lid. Pyro sighed in relief and sat on Scout’s bed, facing Heavy.   </p><p> </p><p>“Three glasses.”  Heavy nodded solemnly.  “Heavy has plan.  We will get Scout to drink, then you will make up with him.” He sighed.  “This morning was not good.  Heavy could hear shouting all over base.  Smart Engineer to make you both work.  Better to work than brood.”  He poured two glasses, handing one to Pyro.  “But, drink now.  Plan will come later.”  </p><p>Pyro, unsure if “Drink now.” was a suggestion or an order, but not wanting to chance offending the guy with the booze, slammed back the shot.  His eyes widened, then squeezed shut and started to water, his throat felt like he’d inhaled flames, his chest suddenly spasming into a coughing fit.  He choked and sputtered, finally opening his eyes to see Heavy, holding his now empty glass, watching him with concern.  “Little Pyro is ok?”  He leaned forward, peering at Pyro.  Pyro nodded, not sure if the man was concerned or entertained.</p><p>Holding up a hand and waving it weakly, Pyro blinked a few times.  “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.  You okay?”  He placed a hand on his belly, hoping that Heavy wouldn’t notice him trying to assess if he’d just swallowed liquid or a glowing coal.  Heavy merely nodded and refilled their glasses.  “Is not so bad second time.”  He grinned, tilting the small glass up and swallowing, then sitting it down gently.  “Now you.” </p><p>Pyro frowned at the shot glass of clear liquid in his hand, then shrugged.  Lifting the glass to his lips, he swallowed quickly, getting it all down in one gulp.  He looked at Heavy, his eyes still watering a bit, his throat on fire, but without the coughing.  </p><p>“You see, is much better this time.”  Pyro tried to nod in agreement, wondering how many more shots it would take to do irreparable damage to his taste buds.  Was this why no one complained about his cooking?  He frowned, looking down at the small glass, rolling it from side to side in his hand.  Heavy was getting ready to refill the glass when the door burst open and Scout came jogging in, his hair still damp from the shower.  He stopped when he saw Heavy, then looked to Pyro.  “Hey guys, what’s up?”  </p><p>“We are drinking.”  Heavy held out the clean shot glass.  “Little Scout is drinking with us.” He made it a statement, not a question.  Scout shrugged and looked back and forth between the two.  “Uhhh, sure.  I mean, hell yeah!” He hesitated for another moment, but Heavy, balancing the glasses in one big hand, waved him toward the bed Pyro was sitting on. Scout sat down beside Pyro quickly then grinned and reached for the glass.  Pyro started to warn him about the first drink, but at a wink from Heavy, sat back and stayed silent, waiting to see what was gonna happen.  </p><p>Scout, with his usual bravado, drained the glass in an instant.   Pyro could tell when his tongue registered the taste flooding across it.  His face screwed up, eyes closing and mouth pursing as he tried hard to swallow.  He grunted, the grunt quickly turning to a gag.  Pyro moved quickly, scooting away from him, not wanting to be the landing zone for the shot Scout had just swallowed.  Scout waved a hand, frantically swallowing, then finally sat up with a gasp.  “What the hell, man?  You trying to poison me?”  His face was so indignant that Pyro burst out laughing. </p><p>Heavy, looking from one to the other, chuckled good naturedly.  “Will not poison little Scout.  Look, Pyro drinks like real man.”  He poured another glass and handed it to Pyro, who, by virtue of experience, knew that it was like drinking kerosene.  He tilted the glass back and swallowed, then slammed the glass down on the trunk lid, suddenly feeling very masculine. </p><p>Heavy laughed out loud, downing his own shot.  “That is right, little Pyro.  You slam glass down, then you say “на ваше здоровье.”  He chuckled.  “Well, you say “на ваше здоровье,” then drink, then put glass down.  We will practice.”  So saying, he filled their glasses again.  They all toasted, Pyro and Scout mangling the Russian phrase, causing Heavy to guffaw loudly,  then they drank.  </p><p>Heavy, cheeks red, let out a bellowing laugh.  “That is right!  And again!”  He filled their glasses and the boys exchanged looks, then drank with him.  Heavy smiled and leaned back against the wall.  “How you are feeling, little men?”  </p><p>Pyro grinned.  He found himself grinning at everything.  “I’m great!”  He looked at Scout.  “What about you?”  </p><p>Scout nodded and held his glass out, prompting another round from the big Russian.  Heavy snatched the bottle up and held it to his chest, staring at the two.  “Nyet.  First, we talk.”  He smiled slyly.  “Heavy wants to know what is going on, eh?”  He raised his eyebrows, letting a bit of a leer come into his voice.  He motioned between them, the liquid in the bottle sloshing about.  “What is wrong with you both, you act like enemies this morning?”  He frowned.  “Heavy does not like being run over by naked Pyro in the morning.” </p><p>“I was wearing boxers.”  Pyro muttered, feeling the need to at least attempt to defend himself.  Heavy shushed him, turning his full attention back to Scout.  “And a t- shirt.” A glare from Heavy silenced him quickly.  “What is this, Scout?  You do not like little Pyro any more?” </p><p> </p><p>“I like him.”  Scout broke in, nodding to Pyro.  “He’s my bestie, my brother from another mother.”  He held his glass out while Heavy pondered this, unravelling the statement and translating to Russian in his head.  Most people, when they first encountered him, thought the big guy was dumb, but it was a language barrier more than lack of intelligence.   He’d definitely proven that time and again to the two now sitting in front of him.  He absently refilled Scout’s shot glass, then motioned to Pyro, who held his out also.  The three drank in silence.  </p><p>“He is not related to you.”  Heavy broke the silence at last.  “He is your very good friend, your other half.”  He nodded.  “Have you ever thought about making him your lover?”  </p><p>Scout squawked out a sound Pyro had never heard from him before, completely taken off guard by the question.  “My what?”  He frowned, eyes on Heavy now.  “Did you just suggest that me and him, uhhhh, you know?”  He put his hands together and made an in and out motion with his fingers, his cheeks blazing scarlet now.  “Hell, no, I ain’t never thought about it! What the hell, man?”  </p><p> </p><p>Heavy glared at Scout.  “Do not ‘what the hell’ Heavy.  Is question.  Deserves answer, not cursing.”  He shifted, the bedsprings creaking, causing Scout to lean back against Pyro, his hands up defensively. </p><p>“Dude, I’m sorry but that came outta the blue. You gotta warn a guy when you ask shit like that.”  He chuckled weakly.  Heavy, seeming mollified by his apology, waved toward his glass with the bottle.  Scout and Pyro both obediently held out their glasses, even though Pyro could feel the world starting to tip when he leaned forward.  He frowned at Heavy, the man wasn’t showing the slightest effect from the shots.</p><p>“So, uh, you know that I don’t like guys, right?”  Scout was starting to slur a bit, Pyro noted.  He leaned back against the wall, his hand idly falling on Pyro’s knee.  Pyro held very, very still.</p><p>“Have another drink.”  Heavy held out the bottle, gesturing to their glasses.  “You will like guys soon.”  He chuckled, and, having filled their glasses, turned the bottle up and drank deeply.  He wiped his mouth when he’d finished, looking at the two wide eyed boys sitting across from him.  “What?”  he finally asked, voice steady as before they’d started.</p><p>“Just waiting for you to implode.”  Pyro sighed, leaning his head back against the wall.  “That must be how people spontaneously combust.”  He looked over at Scout, who was nodding in agreement.  </p><p>Heavy just chuckled again.  “Will teach little men to drink like Russians.”  He smiled.  “Deep breath in, drink, deep breath out.”  He held the bottle across the open floor between the two beds.  “Here, you try.”  </p><p>Pyro accepted the bottle like he would a live rattlesnake, handling it carefully and eyeing it with suspicion.  He could feel the weight of Scout and Heavy’s stares.  He contemplated the bottle, debating how bad an idea drinking from the bottle was going to be.  At last, taking a deep breath, he tipped the bottle up and drank, then exhaled.  He frowned as the world seemed to waver about him, then noticed that he couldn’t feel his feet. Or his fingers.  He grunted, passing the bottle to Scout.  </p><p>Scout tipped the bottle back and drank, swallowing rapidly to keep the liquid he’d just swallowed from coming back up.  He handed the bottle back to Heavy, then leaned back against the wall.  Pyro watched him, waiting to see if the drink was going to stay down.  Satisfied at last, he leaned his own head back, content to close his eyes and listen to Scout and Heavy talk.  They were discussing him, he realized suddenly.  Pyro frowned, listening closer.  He could feel himself flushing, a wave of heat that seemed to start at his toes and climb quickly. He groaned, sliding away from the wall and perching on the edge of the bed, hands on his knees, head down as the heat was followed by a wave of nausea.  Not knowing what else to do, he grabbed his sweater and pulled it off, dropping it to the floor.  The cool air washed over him, making him feel marginally better.  Shaking his head, he gripped the hem of his t shirt, pulling it up and over as well, suddenly not caring about the scarring on his back and chest, only wanting the coolness washing over his skin.  </p><p>Scout murmured something, then reached out and rubbed his back with one hand.  Pyro looked at him, eyes squinted.  “What did you say?”  </p><p>“I asked if you were gonna be okay, buddy?”  Scout looked concerned.  He was rubbing his hand over Pyro’s shoulders, patting him occasionally.  “You looked like you were gonna puke there for a minute.”</p><p>“I’m good.”  He breathed in deeply, then smiled at Scout, leaning into the touch.  “Yeah, I’m good.”  He glanced over at Heavy, who was grinning at them both.  Heavy handed the bottle to him and Pyro drank again, then passed it to Scout.  </p><p>Heavy laughed suddenly and raised his arm, curling his biceps.  “Little Pyro has muscle?”  He flexed.  “Carries heavy weapon all day, come on, show Heavy.”  Pyro grinned and sat up straight, flexing his arm, the muscles there popping up.  He wasn’t as big as Heavy, but the man was right, the exercise he got on the field and the weight of his weapon had built muscle that he’d never had before this job.  </p><p>Heavy took a deep drink from the bottle then stood, pulling his shirt over his neck and dropping it on Pyro’s.  “Is good, little Pyro, but look at this.”  He flexed again, trying to pull in his stomach muscles a bit.  Pyro grinned and aped his posture, feeling his abs stand out a bit more. Scout, having scooted forward on the bed, whistled softly.  “Jeez, Py.  I didn’t realize you were stacked like that.”  Pyro, blushing suddenly, collapsed in a giggling fit, his shoulders shaking with laughter.  </p><p>“Little Scout, show us what you have.”  Heavy drank again, then passed the bottle to Pyro.  Scout stood and pulled his shirt off.  “Prepare to be amazed!”  He flexed, his lean runner’s build not as solidly packed as Pyro, but with the  muscle definition of a born athlete showing under the skin.  Scout turned this way and that, half serious, half clowning.  “You gotta see my legs though!”  His hands were on the waistband of his pants, pulling them down suddenly.  Pyro was laughing harder, and even Heavy was chuckling.  </p><p>Scout had his pants around his ankles now, but when he leaned over to pull his feet out, he fell onto Pyro.  Pyro managed to catch him just as Scout started yelling about being stuck. Heavy, laughing harder, reached across the chest and grabbed Scout’s pants, pulling his kicking and struggling feet free at last.  He dropped the pants on the clothes pile, then began pulling off his boots. Standing, Heavy kicked off his own boots and pulled off his pants, balancing precariously on one leg to do so. Scout, struggling to roll off Pyro, watched him with a frown on his face.  “What you doing, man?”  he asked finally.</p><p>“Heavy has leg muscles also.”  He stood, flexing for them both, muscles moving under a thin layer of insulating fat.  Heavy turned, putting both hands on his hips and posing for them, his belly just hanging over the top of his underwear.  Not to be beaten, Scout jumped up from the bed and tensed his thigh and calf muscles.  “Yeah, well, look at that, big guy.”  </p><p>Heavy chuckled, then reached down and poked at Scout’s thigh.  “Solid.” He pronounced finally.  “Is good.”  He turned to look at Pyro, then gestured for him to get to his feet.  Pyro, knowing a drunken idea when he saw it, stood finally and shook his head.  “I don’t know about this guys.”  He swayed a bit from side to side and Heavy reached out a big hand to steady him.  “Little Scout, can help Pyro undress?”  </p><p>Scout grinned, slurring his words a bit more now.  “Yeah, sure…”  He stepped in front of Pyro and began undoing the button and fly of his jeans, then grasping the top, he slid them down his friends legs.  Pyro froze under their touch, not sure what to do.  He looked up at Heavy finally, his face frozen.  Heavy winked at him, then patted him on the cheek.  “Do not worry, Pyro.  Will not allow you to be hurt.  Now, show us your leg muscles.”  </p><p>Pyro glanced up at him, then down again, finally sitting his foot down, on tiptoe and tightening his calf muscles.  Scout knelt behind him, one hand on his calf, the other spread on the floor for balance.  “Like a rock.” He grinned up at Pyro, who immediately blushed an even darker shade of red.  Heavy handed him the bottle and he drank quickly, hoping to hide his thoughts at seeing his best friend on his knees.  </p><p>When he handed the bottle back to Heavy, he swayed, then sat down again.  Scout sat beside him, cross legged, his knee touching Pyro’s leg and warming it.  Pyro wanted to reach out and pet it, see if the little blonde hairs were as soft as they looked, but his eyelids were so very heavy, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep them open. Shivering at the chill in the room, he leaned against Scout, relaxing into his warmth as an arm was wrapped around his shoulders.  At last, listening to Scout and Heavy talk about the best ways to gain muscle mass, he drifted off to sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I have a feeling that Pyro is gonna pay for this tomorrow. ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Pyro learns why drinking with a Russian is a bad idea.  He also learns that Medic has a crappy sense of humor.  There is a discussion about European vs. US porn.  Not an auspicious day...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pyro woke up to utter misery.  He groaned, feeling the bile surge in his throat, and trying frantically to push it back down.  He felt trapped, a heavy weight laying across his legs and abdomen, parts of his body damp with sweat, parts freezing cold.  Someone was snoring, and the sound seemed to rake against the insides of his skull, scraping out whatever brain matter he had left after last night.  Pyro groaned and cracked open his eyelids, hissing as the brilliant laser beams of the morning sun seared his optic nerves.  </p><p>He looked down his body and, squinting, made out the blurred shape of Scout, passed out on him, crushing his legs to the bed.  Pyro groaned louder, moving his legs.  Scout rolled off him with a muttered protest, then went back to sleep.  Pyro sat up and looked in his bed, just as another loud snore rattled the walls.  Heavy was passed out, flat on his back, starfished in the middle of the bed as best he could.  This meant that his arm and one leg were propped against the wall while the other arm and leg trailed off the bed.  He was wearing only his boxers, and the nearly empty bottle of vodka was sitting on the floor, his hand still gripping the neck.  </p><p>Pyro reached for his own pants, sorting them out of the pile of clothes in the middle of the floor.  He stood slowly, determined that he could indeed remain on his feet, and staggered off to the communal bathroom.  As he listed down the hallway, one hand running along the rough concrete to guide himself, he tried not to think too much about the pounding in his head or the acid rolling about his stomach.  He dashed the last few feet and fell to his knees, vomiting in the toilet just in time.  </p><p>When his stomach finally settled, Pyro curled around the toilet bowl and lay his head against the cool porcelain.  He knew it was disgusting, didn’t even want to think about who’s ass had last been where his head now was, but the cold seeped into his brain and helped numb the pounding there.  </p><p>He could feel himself drifting in and out of sleep, cradled against the cold tiles.  When a warm hand touched his shoulder, he jolted in surprise, then moaned at the pain that shot through his head.  He turned carefully to the side, looking at the man who had touched him.  </p><p>Medic stood just inside the stall door, an odd expression on his face.  “Pyro.”  He kept his voice low, seeming to understand exactly what was happening.  “Get up from there and come to the clinic with me.”  He turned, his boots clicking on the floor and walked out of the room.  Pyro pushed himself up and followed, still unsteady on his feet.  </p><p>The walk felt like it was taking forever. When he at last pushed through the double doors to the clinic, he was panting slightly, his legs feeling all weak and shaky like he’d just run a mile or three.  He collapsed into the chair in front of Medic’s desk, not even bothering to look up and see what the taller man was doing.   When the two little white pills and glass of water were plunked down in front of him, he simply gulped them down, not bothering to ask what they were.  It was a poor survival strategy, but at the moment, death held a sort of appeal to him, if only because it would stop the jackhammer pounding of blood through his head.  He let said body part drop to the table once more, groaning out loud.  There was a bit of shuffling, then the sound of Medic’s chair being drawn back.  It creaked as Medic settled his weight into it.  “Would you like to tell me who gave you the alcohol?” </p><p>Pyro looked up with bleary eyes, taking in the sight of Medic’s neatly knotted tie.  “Nope.”  He groaned again, hand shielding his eyes. He could swear the sun had never been this bright before.  He sighed.  “Look, thanks for the pills, but you know snitches get ditches.”  He let his head fall forward once more, his neck feeling like the stalk of a daisy that had been snapped.  “I’m sorry.”  </p><p>Medic sighed.  “I should have known better than to ask.  Let me make an assumption though.”  He leaned forward, peering into the red rimmed eyes of the boy who was trying to prop his head in his hands without touching it.  “You reek of vodka.  You are missing your shirt.  Heavy is sleeping in your bed.”  He grinned at the expression of shock on the much younger man’s face.  “Yes, I looked in the first time I heard your pathetic retching in the bathroom.”  His grin turned cold.  “You, Scout, and Heavy had a very interesting night, didn’t you?”  The grin slipped from his mouth as if it had never been.  “Tell me, Junge, how many firsts did you experience last night?”  Crossing his arms, he leaned further across the desk, an air of listening about him.  </p><p>Pyro leaned back suddenly, startled by the venom in the doctor’s voice.  “Whoa, Doc!”  He held up his hands in protest.  “I slept with Scout!”  He stumbled suddenly, realizing what he’d just implied.  “I mean, Scout and I slept in the same bed, or passed out.  Heavy slept in my bed, but I didn’t sleep with him!”  He could feel the headache starting to recede, panic pushing it to the back of his list of concerns.  Medic was damned scary.  </p><p>Suddenly, the tall man’s shoulders began to shake, his face taking on a reddish tint as the corners of his mouth twitched and his eyes crinkled up.  Pyro, afraid that some sort of attack was coming on, leaned further back in his chair, nearly toppling over altogether when Medic suddenly snorted out a laugh, then began guffawing loudly.  </p><p>He gazed in astonishment as Medic bent double in his chair, one hand slapping his knee as deep belly laughs rolled from his throat.  Finally, the laughter died, Medic obviously straining to contain himself as he sat back up and cleared his throat, wiping tears from his eyes with one hand.  “Oh, Junge,” he gasped out, “if only you could have seen your face.  So funny! Ich habe mich halb totgelacht!”  </p><p>Pyro took a deep breath and leaned his chair back down on all four legs again.  “What the hell was that about?”  He glared at Medic, the pounding in his head noticeable again.  “You really think it’s funny to scare people like that?  Christ, Doc, I thought you were gonna come across the table at me!”  </p><p>Medic started snickering all over again.  Pyro could feel his frown deepening.  Pushing back from the table, he stood.  “Look, I’m sure this is all really funny to you, but I’m gonna go now.  Thanks for the medicine.”  He started to turn, but Medic reached across the desk and grabbed his arm.  “Sit back down, Junge.  I am done laughing now, I promise.”  </p><p>Reluctantly, Pyro sat.  </p><p>“I apologize, Pyro.  I should not have laughed at you when you are feeling so, how do you say, under the weather.  It was rude.  But forgive me.” He smiled winningly, leaning back in his chair.  “I have wanted to talk to you for some time now, and this is the perfect time to have this discussion.  I know that you are young, and, I would assume, rather inexperienced, but I wanted you to know that, if you need to ask questions that are,” he cleared his throat delicately, “personal, you may come to me.”  </p><p>Pyro was trying really hard to make sense of what he was talking about.  It helped that the pounding in his head had subsided from meth addicts with jackhammers to a slow drumbeat that echoed his pulse.  “You think that me and Scout?”  He paused.  “Of course you do.  The whole team thinks we’re, like, an item now, right?”  He sighed, prepared to, once again, have The Discussion with someone.  He paused for a second, trying to figure out when he’d imbued this with capital letters.  </p><p>“Scout and I sleep in the same bed because it’s cold here.  And because it reminds him of home.  That’s it, no funny stuff, Doc.”  He sighed.  “I mean, even if I wanted to, he thinks of me as a brother, not like that.”  He trailed off into silence. </p><p>Medic nodded.  “Heavy considers himself to be a wonderful Ehestifter, a maker of matches.  He is a good man, with a soft heart.  Yesterday he spoke with me about this.  He says that you are not so certain about the brother, more curious about the lover?  This is true, Junge?”  Medic’s voice had gone softer, his eyes fixed on Pyro’s face, reading his expressions.  Pyro imagined this must be how a bug felt under a microscope and was suddenly sorry for every bug he’d ever caught in a bottle during his childhood.  </p><p>Glancing down at his fingers, twisting together on his lap in nervousness, he took a deep breath, using the time to compose his thoughts.  “I don’t know, Doc.  I mean, he’s a nice guy, and I do like him, but I don’t think he thinks about me like that, and I don’t want to push it and ruin us being friends, you know?”  He glanced up at Medic, noting the attentive gaze.  “I don’t even know how I’d go about asking him if he’s interested. So, I guess it’s what it is, Doc, you know?”</p><p>Medic cleared his throat.  “I think that our friend Heavy has been attempting to plant seeds for you.  My advice would be to wait and be patient, see if any of those seeds sprout.  And if they do, then don’t be afraid to take the fruit that is borne from them.”  His blue eyes grew soft, rather misty and sad.  “And then, if you need further advice about how,” he cleared his throat again, “ about how things fit together, come to me and I would be happy to lend you some informational pamphlets.”  </p><p>“You mean porn?”  Pyro couldn’t hide the grin as the good doctor blushed, then blushed deeper yet.  </p><p>“NO!”  Medic protested loudly.  “I do not mean porn, Herr Pyro.  I happen to have some very decent informational pamphlets describing the act.” He stopped suddenly and sighed. “I have porn.”  He looked at Pyro, his eyes twinkling.  “But it is European porn, so it is very informative.  Unlike whatever you and Scout usually look at, this is of a much higher class.”  His smile grew broader.  “I also have lubricant.”  </p><p>It was Pyro’s turn to blush now.  He held up a hand, wondering what Medic would do if he put his hands over his ears and started singing La-La-La repeatedly.  “I think I’m good, Doc, but thanks for the offer.  And the medicine. May I go now?”</p><p> </p><p>At Medic’s nod of dismissal, he stood and walked out of the room.  Looking back over his shoulder, he paused.  “Doc, thanks again.  I really do appreciate the concern.”  He was met with a gigantic smile and a wink.  Turning again, he headed back to his room.  </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>When he finally managed to get inside the safety of his and Scout’s shared room, he checked his bed first to be sure that Heavy was gone.  His bed was empty, the sheets rumpled and twisted, a very large sock half hanging off the mattress.  He glanced over to where Scout was sitting, back against the wall, reading a comic.  </p><p>“Hey you, where ya been?”  The Boston accent was thick this morning.  “I’ve been up for like, hours, ya know?”  </p><p>Pyro gingerly pinched the sock between thumb and forefinger, depositing it in the dirty clothes hamper.  “I was talking to Medic.”  He sat down on his bed and went into not quite the entire story, including his scare when the other man had pretended to be jealous, but leaving out the interest in his and Scout’s relationship status.  “So, all in all, it’s been a really weird morning.  How was watching Heavy sleep?”  </p><p>“Boring.” Scout grinned.  “Man, he can sleep through pretty much anything though.  I was literally throwing clothes at him, thinking he would wake up and he didn’t even move.” He chuckled.  “I touched his vodka bottle though and it was like somebody set off a bomb under him! Right outta the bed he came!  It was pretty funny, you should have been here.  And then he just like, stands there for a minute, grabs his clothes, and leaves.  Doesn’t speak, doesn’t look around, nothing.” They were both laughing by this point.  “Hell, I’m still not sure he was awake.”  Scout giggled.  “He was like a zombie, all URRRRGhhhhhh, ya’ know?”  </p><p>He stood and began lurching around the room, then grabbed Pyro by the shoulders suddenly, making nomming noises as he got closer to his head.  Pyro waved his hands around, laughing loudly, and suddenly Scout lost his balance and landed on top of him.  Pyro lay still for a moment, not sure what to do.  Scout just leaned into him further, and  sniffed loudly.  “You still smell like smoke.  I kind of like that.  It smells like Engie’s barbeque.”  He pulled back and rolled off Pyro, tucking one hand under his head and staring at the ceiling.  “Do I really smell like baby powder?”  He glanced at Pyro, then away again.  </p><p>Pyro shrugged awkwardly, still half trapped under Scout.  It was a very small bed with two people in it.  He leaned in finally and sniffed, his nose buried in the crook of Scout’s neck.  “Yep.  Baby powder.” He sniffed again.  “And oranges maybe?”  He sniffed again.  “Definitely oranges.”  He looked up just as Scout turned his head.  Suddenly, their noses were inches apart.  Startled, Pyro pulled back, then cursed himself silently.  Was that disappointment on Scout’s face, or was he just hoping it would be?  With a sigh, he lay back down and waited for Scout to get up.  </p><p>Scout, on his feet again, reached out a hand to him.  “Come on, Py, I’ll help you up.  Let’s go see what Engie made for breakfast.”  Pyro placed his hand into Scout’s and let the other boy pull him to his feet.  He felt like he’d just missed a chance at something, but he wasn’t sure why.  Silently, he followed Scout out of the room. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Ich habe mich halb totgelacht  I half laughed myself to death<br/>Ehestifter matchmaker</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Pyro points Sniper in the right direction, then has a very interesting talk with Spy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry it's taken so long to post again.  Trying really hard to get past the Covid blues here.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Engie wasn’t in the kitchen when they made it down the steps.  This was unusual, to say the least.  The short Texan seemed convinced that the entire team would waste away if he didn’t cook at least one meal a day.  When Scout and Pyro walked in, Sniper was digging through the cupboards, a cup of coffee steaming in one hand.  </p>
<p>“Vegemite’s one over.”  Pyro pointed out.  </p>
<p>Sniper whirled, nearly dropping the cup.  He’d been so intent on his rummaging that he hadn’t even heard them come in.  Scout glanced at Pyro, surprised by this lack of attention in the normally preternaturally aware Aussie.  </p>
<p>“Oh, it’s you boys.”  Sniper turned back to the cupboards.  “I was looking for peanut butter.”  It was Pyro’s turn to look puzzled.  Sniper frequently told anyone within earshot that peanut butter was a poor substitute for Vegemite, a weak and inferior Americanized product only fit for the rubbish heap.  </p>
<p>“Ummm, third cabinet, behind the Froot Loops.  Why you looking for peanut butter, Snipes?”  Scout couldn’t contain his curiosity.  “I thought you hated it.”  </p>
<p>Sniper found the jar finally, hidden behind cereal and turned around, coffee in one hand, peanut butter jar in the other.  Scout instinctively cringed at the way he held the jar.  He looked ready to bomb them with it at any moment.  Sniper’s brows drew together in a line over his eyes, then he looked down at the jar they were watching carefully.  “OH!  Shit, sorry mates, it’s just the most natural way to hold a jar, right?”  </p>
<p>He turned to the cupboards again, finding a plate and sitting the jar down beside it.  He began to talk as he worked.  “It’s just, I ain’t seen Engie this morning, so I thought I’d feed the egghead since he feeds us all the time.  But the only thing I can recall him liking that I can make is peanut butter and banana sandwiches.”  Items rattled on the counter and Sniper muttered under his breath for a moment.  It sounded a lot like “Can’t believe I’m making this shite.”  </p>
<p>Pyro grinned.  He watched as Sniper carefully plated the sandwich, the peanut butter and bits of banana hanging over the sides and threatening to ooze onto the plate.  “Right then, I’m off, boys.  Enjoy your brekkie.”   </p>
<p>When Sniper walked out of the room, Pyro stood up to follow him.  Scout started to follow too but Pyro motioned toward the cupboards.  “Go on and eat.  I’ll be back in a few.” Scout nodded and he hurried after Sniper, intentionally keeping his boots loud on the concrete to prevent startling the other man again. </p>
<p>Sniper went out the side door of the base, tall boots scuffing through the short trampled grass in the small yard, heading for Engie’s shed.  He paused finally, allowing Pyro to catch up to his long strides.  “Why ya following me, firebug?”  He looked over, aviators sliding down his nose  bit, offsetting the stern slash of his mouth.  </p>
<p>“Wanted to talk to you for a minute, I guess.”  Pyro watched him carefully, he didn’t know Sniper well and the man had a reputation for being volatile.  He glanced around, the yard was empty.  “It’s just that I was wondering if you heard about the pictures and that whole mess?”  </p>
<p>Sniper nodded slowly.  “I did.  Figured it was your business though.” The corners of his lips turned up a bit.  “I’m not a gossip like Spy.  I figure if you want to talk about something, you’ll talk about it.”  He paused.  “Is that what this is about?  You want to talk about you and Scout?”  His brows drew together in a frown.  “Why me, mate, if you don’t mind my asking?”  </p>
<p>Pyro frowned in thought, trying to decide how he wanted to phrase the question he had.  “Well, I was curious, I guess.  And then I saw you making a sandwich for Engie and got even more curious.  The others have been telling me that I’m not the first person to have a crush on someone I work with, and I was sort of wondering if... “ He trailed off, not sure how to ask the next part.  Taking a deep breath, he plunged ahead.  “Do you like Engie?”  </p>
<p>Sniper chuckled.  “Do I like Engie?  That’s why you followed me out here?”  His shoulders relaxed a bit, and finally he sighed.  “Yeah, I like Engie.  What’s not to like?  I mean, he’s smart and nice and real laid back.  He takes care of the team, whether he likes us or not.  So I guess that answers that question.”  </p>
<p>Pyro nodded.  “So why not tell him?”  </p>
<p>Sniper made a harsh noise in the back of his throat.  “Tell him that I like him?  What would he see in a lanky bushman who smells like coffee and dust and throws piss at his enemies? I’m not even on the radar for Engie.  Not near good enough for him.”  He sighed.  “Sometimes it’s like that, ya know?”  </p>
<p>Pyro found himself nodding in agreement.  He knew the feeling all too well. “But what if he liked you and just thought you didn’t notice?  Would you tell him then?”  </p>
<p>Sniper cocked his head to the side, studying Pyro carefully.  “Are you not telling me something, mate?”  He shook his head, snorting in disbelief.  “I mean, not that he would like me, but you sound like you’re up to something.”   </p>
<p>Pyro shrugged.  “Engie and I talk, sometimes, you know, while I’m spy checking for him.  I was just thinking, that you know, maybe if you told him how you feel, you guys would find out you feel the same?”  He smiled, wondering how that conversation was going to turn out.  “And you know, since you’re taking him a sandwich, this would be a good time to talk to him, maybe?”</p>
<p>Sniper frowned.  “Did he really say he likes me?”  </p>
<p>Pyro nodded.  “Sure did.  Said that you were a great guy and that he likes you.  Why do you think he makes sure we always have Vegemite?  He don’t eat it.”  Pyro chuckled.  “You know how he feels about it. But there it is, every time we go to a new base.”  </p>
<p>Sniper’s half smile broadened.  “He does that for me?”  He shrugged.  “I just thought the Administrator sent it.”  </p>
<p>“Hell no!  That’s all Engie. So, you’ll talk to him this morning?”  </p>
<p>“Maybe.”  Sniper shrugged.  “Hell, it can’t hurt anything, right?”  He stared down at the plate.  “Sort of makes me wish I’d put some chips on here now, something to fancy it up.”  He sighed.  “Oh well, it’ll be fine, I guess.”  </p>
<p>Pyro nodded and patted the taller man on the back.  “Go get’em, Tiger!” He grinned.  “I’m gonna go get breakfast.”  He watched for a long moment as Sniper started walking again, an extra little spring in his step.  With a longing sigh, he turned back to the base.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>When he got back to the kitchen, Scout was already gone, leaving his dirty dishes in the sink.  Pyro rummaged through the cupboard, found the cereal and poured some in a bowl, splashing milk on it.  Sitting down, he began to eat.  He wondered what would happen if he told Scout the things he’d been thinking about them.   His mind went back to the picture, still hidden under his mattress, and what it had felt like, the last few days, sleeping in Scout’s bed.  He’d never thought he would enjoy human contact so much, but now that he had it, he dreaded the day they left this base and went back to separate rooms again.  </p>
<p>He sighed and finished eating, then got up to wash his and Scout’s dishes.  According to the calendar, they were scheduled to start fighting again in three days, and those would most likely be very busy days if the older guys on the team had their way.  He hoped that, at some point, he’d be able to sit down with Heavy and find out what he and Scout had discussed when they’d been drinking together. Shaking his head, he left the kitchen, intent on cleaning his weapons before the fighting started again.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wandered into the locker room and brought his flamethrower out of it’s storage space, checking it over carefully as he began to disassemble it. He usually did this part in Engie’s workshop, where there was plenty of room for him to lay out parts but he thought that might not be a good place to visit at the moment.  With any luck, Sniper was busy distracting Engie from broken teleporters and alternate dimensions.  </p>
<p>Pyro chuckled quietly, wondering if even Sniper could distract the Engineer when he was this deep into a problem.  He started laying parts out on the floor, cleaning each carefully of the layers of soot and the thin film of burnt propane that always accumulated on them. Left alone, the regulator valve would get gummed up and he’d either end up with no flame or blowing himself up spectacularly.  He’d learned this lesson the hard way, when he’d first started fighting.  Humming softly under his breath, he began to scrub at the valve with a soft cloth and soapy water. </p>
<p>He was lost in the rhythm of his work when he felt a hand on his shoulder.  Pyro squeaked, rag flying in one direction and parts flying in the other.  He cursed and scrambled after the small igniter, managing to catch it just before it hit the floor and then turning with a muttered curse.  Spy was standing behind his bench, a smarmy smile turning up the corners of his thin lips.  </p>
<p>“Hello, Pyro.  How are you today?”  He stepped over the low bench and sat, leaving just enough room for Pyro to sit beside him if he wanted to get his flamethrower put back together.  With a sigh, Pyro sank down onto the bench beside him.  </p>
<p>“Hello, Spy.”  He glanced over at the other man, then back at the tiny sparker in his hand.  “How are you?”  He began to pick at the film covering it.  Spy bent over and picked up his rag, handing it to him.  Pyro muttered a “Thank you.” and went back to his cleaning, wondering how long the Spy was going to sit there and invade his peaceful morning.  </p>
<p>After a long moment of uncomfortable silence, Spy spoke.  “I wanted to apologize to you and to Scout.” Pyro glanced over at him, then back down at his work.  “What I did was wrong.  I should not have made a joke of your relationship.  It was not done from malice.”  He pulled at the sleeve of his jacket, a small smile gracing the corners of his lips.  “I thought it would not be as poorly received as it was.”  </p>
<p>“Why did you do it, Spy?”  Pyro began to reassemble his flamethrower, glancing over in surprise when Spy began handing him parts, in the right order.  He glanced over at the other man, surprise on his face.  </p>
<p>Spy met his eyes.  “Come now, do you really think I don’t know how that thing works? Simply because I don’t use it, doesn’t mean it’s a mystery to me.”  He smiled, but Pyro caught a hint of sadness in his voice.  “I was jealous.  I see how close you are to my s…” he caught himself, “To Scout, and I wanted to be, at the least, his friend. I know how much he enjoys pranks, and thought that perhaps a prank would help, but he won’t even talk to me now.” He sighed and rubbed his chin with one gloved hand.  “I wanted to apologize to you and I hoped that you would at least convey my sorrow to him.”  </p>
<p>Pyro nodded slowly.  “I see.  Have you ever thought about maybe talking to him about the things he is interested in?  Every time I see you two, you’re telling him what he’s bad at, and acting like his dad or something… You never tell him what he’s good at. Why would anyone want to talk to someone who’s always criticizing them?”  He gave Spy a searching look.  “I’ll let him know you apologized. Anything else you want me to tell him?”  </p>
<p>Spy shrugged.  “I don’t think so.  Let’s see how this goes.”  He leaned closer, peering at a tube in his hand.  “This is worn, right here.  You can see the shiny spot if you look closely.”  </p>
<p>Pyro leaned in closer and looked at the spot Spy was tapping with a gloved finger.  “Hmmmm…. You’re right.  I’ll have to get that replaced.”  He smiled suddenly.  “Thanks Spy.  I’d have blown myself right off the map with that.”  Taking the offending part from the other man’s hand, he slipped it into his pocket to be dealt with later.  </p>
<p>Spy stood and walked to the doorway, then turned and looked back at him.  “You’re welcome, Pyro.  He touched his watch and faded to invisibility just as Pyro heard sneakers travelling down the hall at a high rate of speed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(This work was brought to you by the creative power of kudos.  Please toss a kudo to your writer)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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